


Blurry Details

by kaci3PO



Category: Ugly Betty
Genre: 28 to Create, Age Difference, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 18:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaci3PO/pseuds/kaci3PO
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Daniel and Betty decide to get married, Daniel asks Marc to be one of his groomsmen. Marc hasn't seen Justin Suarez in five years, and Justin's a lot more forthcoming than he used to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blurry Details

**October 15, 2015**

"Oh, God," Marc groans. "I feel like such a pervert."

"Please. Is it the age thing? Because I'm twenty years old. I'm pretty sure I'm legal in all municipalities that don't still have outdated sodomy laws."

Marc rolls his eyes. "Your mother told me I was a good person," he feels compelled to point out. "She trusted me to guide her child through something serious. I practically raised you."

Justin leans back, affronted, and smacks Marc on the arm. "Oh, you did not! We didn't even meet until I was like, in middle school!"

Marc buries his face against Justin's neck, breathing in the heady scent of his cologne. "Yes, but you were a baby gay and I guided you through your first steps."

"And now you can guide me through a few more," Justin says, and brushes his palm across Marc's cock.

Marc groans and leans back enough to look Justin in the eyes. "Come on," he pleads. "You know I want to."

"I can tell."

Marc — well, he doesn't snort, because Marc St. James doesn't _snort_ , but one would not exactly be incorrect if one chose to describe the noise he makes as snort- _like_.

"Justin," he says, "Your family likes me. They trust me."

"They don't have to know," Justin says, and curls Marc's tie around his fingers before using it to haul him into a kiss.

Marc loses track of his protestations after that.

 

**March 13, 2015**

"Hi, Marc. It's Daniel."

"Calling to check up on your magazine?" Marc asks. "Your mother's keeping me and Willie in check, never you mind."

Daniel laughs, tinny through the speakerphone. "No," he says. "It's not that. It's — well. It's great news, actually. Really great. Betty and I are...we're getting married."

"Finally?" he asks, then coughs. "Congratulations are in order, then," he adds once he's recovered. "I'll have my assistant arrange for —"

"No," Daniel interrupts. "I mean, thank you, but it's not necessary. The reason I'm calling, actually, is to ask you to be in my wedding party."

Marc blinks. "You — you want me to what?"

"I know it may seem out of the blue," Daniel hedges. "But Betty's bridesmaid lineup is getting...uh, big, and I don't really have that many guy friends. But you were my assistant once, and I thought we were friends, and I know you love any chance to wear a tux."

"They're slimming," Marc says primly. "I can't help the things they do to my figure."

"Of course not," Daniel says with a chuckle. "So anyway, I just thought...I mean, it'll be in New York, so you won't have to travel or miss work or anything. If you don't want to, you can say so, I just — Betty's got a _lot_ of bridesmaids."

Marc pauses to consider it, but he doesn't really need to. "Sure," he says. "I'd love to be in your wedding party."

Daniel heaves a sigh of relief. "Oh, that's — thank you, Marc. Seriously. One more guy and I think I'll finally have enough."

Marc doesn't let himself be stung by being so low on what is apparently a sizeable list. They really weren't ever that close.

"So," he says, "who else will I be standing with, come your wedding day?"

"Oh, uh, right now it's you, Betty's brother-in-law Bobby, two of my co-workers from London, Jason and Eric, and Justin, of course. Bobby's the best man. Between you and me, that's mostly because I figured he'd throw the most fun bachelor party."

Marc laughs, thinking back to the few times he met Hilda's husband. He can definitely see how that guy would throw one hell of a stag night.

"Sounds perfect," he says. "I haven't seen Bobby or Justin in...must've been five years now. Haven't seen you and Betty in at least two."

"Yeah," Daniel says apologetically. "We really should come stateside more often. Guess you'll be seeing a lot of us, closer to the wedding."

"I look forward to it," Marc says, and is surprised to find that he really means it.

"I'll talk to you soon, okay?" Daniel says. "Give my love to my mom next time she's in the office."

"Will do," Marc says. After a moment's hesitation, he adds, "Tell Betty I said congratulations and that I'm very happy for her."

He hangs up before Daniel can answer. The gross sentimentality has him feeling like he needs a shower.

 

**October 2, 2015**

"Marc!" Daniel says as he steps forward out of the gaggle of men surrounding him, all of them in various states of undress. Well, if Marc had known it was going to be _that_ kind of party...

He laughs to himself, leaving Daniel to cock his head to the side in confusion, but he puts an arm around Marc's shoulder to drag him towards the group all the same.

"We were wondering where you were," Daniel says as they draw closer to the group.

"Sorry," Marc says. "Work thing. You know how it is."

Daniel grins the relaxed smile of a man who hasn't had to stay up all night worrying about The Book in years. Marc has no idea what he's been doing over in London but obviously it's something more relaxing than what Marc has been up to.

"Marc, this is Jason, Eric, and Brian, and of course you remember Bobby and Justin."

Jason and Eric wave at him awkwardly while Brian just gives him an uncomfortable smile and Bobby thumps him on the back enthusiastically. Justin, on the other hand, throws himself into a hug, arms wrapping tight around Marc's shoulders while Marc tries to get his head around the fact that Justin is actually taller than him and also entirely shirtless.

And hot. Time had no right to turn little baby gay Suarez into a shirtless hottie with no boundaries. Fuck.

"Justin?" he can't help himself blurting out.

Justin leans back and grins down at him. The last time they saw each other, Justin barely came up to his chest and Marc was comforting him over his breakup with Austin. Marc heard through the grapevine that they made up like three days later but Justin had been pretty upset about it at the time.

"I know, I know," Justin says, looking away. "You don't have to say it — my hair is an affront to good taste. I got it cut last week in London while I was visiting Aunt Betty and apparently some of our words mean something different over there." He waves a hand. "I'm getting it fixed as soon as I can find time to get to a salon, I swear. We've just been so busy since we got back to New York, planning and everything." He smiles again, this time right up close in Marc's personal space. "Whatever. I'm trying to talk Daniel into stylish top hats to complete the wedding ensemble but he's being resistant."

"You may be able to pull off a top hat," Daniel says evenly, "but I can't."

"It's a fair point," Marc agrees.

Justin finally takes a step back and seems to realize he's practically half naked.

"Well," he says after a moment. "Let's get you into your tux, see how it fits."

 

**October 6, 2015**

Marc does not remember Justin Suarez walking into rooms like he owns them. Marc's pretty sure that Justin used to reserve that kind of presence for the stage, not his personal life, but sure enough, Justin walks right into Marc's office (he has _got_ to hire a real assistant; the temp is _terrible_ ) and takes the seat across his desk without so much as a hint of acknowledgement that maybe he doesn't belong there.

"Um," Marc says, blinking at him. "Knocking? And what are you doing here, anyway?"

"Taking you out to lunch."

Marc stares. "What's the occasion?"

"Since when do I need an occasion to hang out with you?" Justin asks. "We used to hang out all the time."

Marc laughs. "The rare visit does not qualify as 'all the time,'" he points out. "And you always had an occasion. You always needed something and didn't want to go to anyone else."

"Couldn't," Justin corrects. "Couldn't go to anyone else. And you're right. I did need things."

Marc leans back in his chair and makes a _go on_ gesture with his hand.

"I'm trying to say thank you," Justin says, exasperated.

"Oh." Marc shifts in his chair. The thanks, though appreciated, is not necessary. He never thought of it as something he needed to be thanked for.

"Don't," Justin says. "You love gratitude. Being recognized for your contributions is like crack to you."

"I wouldn't say like crack," Marc hedges. "Maybe just like...some really good weed."

Justin snorts. "I'm trying to be serious here. Not everyone gets a fairy godfather when they need one most. I did. I'm grateful."

Marc looks away, but can't stop the smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth.

"Well," he says, staring down at his desk and anywhere not at the boy in front of him, "you're welcome, then. Glad I could help."

"So let me take you to lunch," Justin presses. "However after-the-fact it might be."

Marc sighs internally and forces himself to meet Justin's eyes. "Alright," he says. "I'll ask my assistant to hold my calls."

Justin beams at him.

Shit.

***

"So how's the acting thing going?" Marc asks after the waiter takes their orders.

Being in public helps. There's enough of an age difference that Marc is even more self-conscious than usual about the line drawn between them and the fact that crossing it in public can earn some nasty looks. Considering his position at Mode, those nasty looks could easily turn into tabloid fodder and the last thing he needs is a headline about him robbing the gay cradle.

"Good. Mom forced me to go to college, but being a theatre major isn't so bad." He shrugs. "I've got an audition next week for a little show off Broadway. My entire life right now is the wedding and that audition."

"So," Marc says, carefully picking his words, "must be kind of hard to fit in time for the boyfriend."

Justin stares at him in confusion for a moment, then laughs. "Austin? We broke up after high school. He got into UCLA so we had one last summer together and then I sent him on his way." He smiles fondly. "It was a great summer. Before you ask, no, I'm not still pining, yes, we keep in touch and are on great terms, but no, I'm not seeing anyone at the moment."

He brushes a strand of hair off his face and shrugs. "Guess I'm going to this wedding stag."

"You and me both," Marc says, before he can think better of it.

"Hm," Justin says. The corner of his mouth twitches.

Marc clears his throat. "Troy and I broke up," he explains, although he's not entirely sure Justin was asking to hear the story. "Turns out he was just as clingy the second time as he was the first."

Justin makes a sympathetic noise. "You probably don't have much time for dating, either," he says. "You've moved up the Mode ranks pretty quick."

"You've been watching?" Marc blurts, feeling inordinately pleased.

Justin just raises an eyebrow.

Marc laughs. "Right. Of course you have. Well. I just look at it as retribution for how slow the move from assistant to editor was."

"If Daniel had been my uncle then, I'd have fixed that," Justin says. He's kidding, and Marc knows it, but he's flattered that Justin probably would've tried.

"Justin," he says after a moment. "Why...why did you ask me to lunch today? And don't say because you're grateful because you said 'thank you' plenty of times when I was actually helping you and even if you hadn't...you know I didn't do it for the thanks."

Justin stops smiling and drops his gaze to the table. "I — what's wrong with being grateful?"

"Nothing," Marc says. "I just...I don't think that's what this is about."

Justin sighs and finally looks up to meet Marc's eyes. "I'm twenty years old now," he says.

"Yeah, I know."

"I'm not in middle school anymore."

"Again, I'm aware."

"I asked you to lunch because I was asking you _out_ ," Justin says, annoyed. "I was trying to take you out on a date, but —"

Marc tries very hard to remember how to breathe, and fails. It's one thing to force himself to resist hitting on a baby gay Suarez who isn't interested in him. It's quite another to ask him to have the self-restraint required to resist a Justin Suarez who actually _wants_ him.

"Oh," Marc manages, and then swallows. "I'm sorry," he says. "I should — I should get back to work."

"You haven't even eaten yet."

"Exactly," Marc says, and gets to his feet. "Thanks for — thanks."

Marc St. James doesn't flee. It's simply not a thing someone of his position _does_. So the fact that he runs out of there and doesn't stop until he's safely back in his office has absolutely nothing to do with fleeing from Justin Suarez and everything to do with the benefits of cardiovascular exercise. Obviously.

 

**October 15, 2015**

Bobby, as it turns out, was the perfect choice to throw Daniel a bachelor party. At least, Marc is pretty sure, anyway, because Daniel seems to be having a hell of a time. They didn't go to a strip club, thank God, but being trapped in the apartment Daniel has kept in New York "just in case" with three strippers and a horde of guys standing around to watch them earn the night's pay is a close third on Marc's list of "horrible ways to spend a night." Number two would be actually going to a strip club. Number one is best not spoken of in polite company.

"I have seen more breasts tonight than I ever planned on in my entire life," Justin says, taking the seat next to Marc in the far corner of the room. He deposits a drink into Marc's hand and clinks his cup with Marc's.

Marc takes a breath, and then forces himself to smile. "The best laid plans," he says with mock wistfulness. "I think I'm immune. I don't even notice anymore." When Justin gives him a look, Marc clarifies, "I used to live with Amanda. It was either stop noticing or be surrounded by breasts all the time."

"A lamentable fate," Justin murmurs. "I mean, they're very nice," he says. "I just don't get all the..." He gestures at the whooping men gathered around the strippers. Marc can count on one hand the number of them who aren't making absolute asses of themselves right now.

"You're young," Marc says. "Next year, when you can go to strip clubs on your own and see _boys_ move their hips like that? You'll understand."

"I've seen boys do—" Justin says, and then stops to wet his lips. "I've seen _boys_ ," he repeats. "I know what they look like. What they do."

Marc swallows. "Justin, about that —"

Justin interrupts. "I want you," he says. "I'm trying to be upfront about that."

"Yes," Marc says, looking away. "You've been...very forthcoming."

"But I'm not going to beg you," Justin says. "If you don't want me back, that's fine. You said no and I respect that. I was just trying to make conversation."

Marc swallows. "You — you think I don't want you?"

"You fled," Justin points out. "I mean, that's a pretty clear 'thanks, but no thanks,' and I can take a hint."

"I didn't _flee_ ," Marc huffs.

"You did."

Marc sighs. "Fine, maybe there was some...flee-like behavior going on. But it wasn't because I don't want you."

Justin raises an eyebrow.

"You're...baby gay Suarez," Marc points out. "You're off limits."

Justin scoffs. "Are you serious right now? Off _whose_ limits? Because I'm pretty sure that the only person who gets to dictate my limits is _me_."

Marc shrugs. "Be that as it may, I can't."

Justin leans in close, brushing his lips against Marc's earlobe as he whispers, "Then maybe I can for both of us."

He leans back just enough to press his mouth to Marc's once, then stands, takes Marc's hand, and tugs him off to somewhere more private.

 

**October 16, 2015**

Marc kind of wishes he was waking up with a hangover. Well, not really, but if he had a hangover, that would mean he'd been drunk last night. He could write it off as a natural loss of inhibitions, apologize, and move forward.

He wasn't drunk. Neither of them were when they stumbled into the spare bedroom, gripping at each other and magnetized together. If he had been drunk, the memory would be hazy and out of focus instead of sharp and crystal clear. He doesn't want to know who taught Justin how to do that _thing_ , and he doesn't want to think about the fact that anyone could've heard them if they'd stepped into the hall and away from the music of Daniel's party.

Marc didn't intend to spend Daniel's bachelor party going down on Justin Suarez, but. Well. Like he'd told Justin: the best laid plans.

Justin is already awake when Marc wakes up. He's sitting there, chin resting on his knees, in all his bare-chested morning glory. He's probably naked under the sheet, because fuck knows that Marc is, but he doesn't dare ask.

"Are —" Marc starts, then clears his throat. "Are you okay?"

Justin turns to look at him. "Okay?"

"I — I mean." Marc sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. "Jesus, I feel like a predator."

"You're not a predator."

"I had sex with a guy practically half my age," Marc points out. "A guy who looks up to me."

Justin snorts. "Used to. I _used_ to look up to you. I mean, I still like you and everything, but you're hardly a hero."

Marc doesn't know whether to be stung or relieved. "Still," he finally manages.

"I wanted to have sex with you," Justin says. "It was fun."

"Okay," Marc says slowly. "So...so we're good?"

"Why wouldn't we be?"

Marc doesn't say, _because sex can complicate things_ because he's pretty sure Justin already knows that. Instead, he shrugs.

"I feel like you're mad at me."

"Not everything is about you," Justin says, and reaches up to brush a strand of hair off his face. Marc catches his wrist and waits until Justin looks him in the eye.

"Just tell me that you don't hate me," he says. "That I didn't take advantage."

"You didn't take advantage," Justin says. "And I don't hate you. But you should go. You have to go home and take a shower and get dressed. I'll see you at the church this afternoon."

Marc lets go of Justin's wrist.

"Alright," he says after a moment. "I guess...I'll see you there?"

Justin makes an affirmative noise, but doesn't move, so Marc grabs his underwear from the floor and tugs them and the rest of his clothes on as discreetly as possible. No one else is awake as he tiptoes out of the apartment, but no sign of relief seems to be forthcoming once he realizes he's made it out unseen.

***

Justin avoids him during the pre-wedding gathering of the groomsmen and then Marc's attention is more focused on how unexpectedly pretty Betty looks in her wedding dress as she walks down the aisle towards them. He's not listening through most of the ceremony, because, well, since when is he invested, really? But his smile and applause at the end of the ceremony is genuine for them, and he thinks that's the most that can be expected of him.

Daniel arranged for transportation from the church to the site of the reception and Marc doesn't even look to see who he's being shoved into a car with until he finds himself in the back of a town car with Justin.

"Oh," he says, and turns to get right back out of the car but finds the door shut in his face as the car pulls out onto the street.

"Listen," they both say at once as he turns back to Justin. Justin gives him a rueful smile.

"I'm sorry," Justin says. "About this morning. I was worried you were going to be all, 'Oh, it was a mistake, we should act like it didn't happen,' and...I don't _want_ to act like it didn't happen, because it wasn't a mistake. But I was convinced you were going to, so I sort of...tried to cut you off at the pass."

Marc twists his fingers together. "It...Justin, I don't." He separates his hands and scrubs one of them over his face. "It was great. Really great. But we can't tell anybody. Your mother would kill me."

"My mother is not as spry as she used to be, what with being six months pregnant and all," Justin counters. "Look, just dance with me at the reception. If everyone freaks out, then we'll say we're just dancing as friends because we're the only gay guys there who don't have dates. If they don't, then..." He shrugs. "Then you let me take you out on a date. One that you don't run out of."

"Justin..." The car pulls to a stop.

"One dance," Justin says. "Think about it, okay?"

He's out on the street before Marc can finish his thought.

***

Marc sits there through most of the reception watching other people dance. He watches Betty and Mr. Suarez do the traditional father/daughter dance. He watches Justin's mom and step-dad spin together on the floor as quickly as her bulging belly will allow. He watches Betty and Daniel sway in each other's arms and has no idea how the hell that happened. He wonders when exactly he gets to have that, too.

"Dance with me," Justin says, stepping into Marc's view and holding out his hand.

Marc swallows. "Your step-dad's almost as scary as your mom," he says.

"I'll deal with Bobby," Justin says. "Just take my hand and come dance with me."

Marc likes Justin. He likes him a lot, actually. The way he likes him now is different than the way he used to like him, because now Marc _wants_ him, too, but the old way is still there. Justin has always made Marc feel like a better person than he actually is, has always brought out the best in his messed up sense of morality. Everything else is blurry details.

Marc takes takes a deep breath and stares into Justin's eyes. Then he takes Justin's hand.

They dance.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried not to. I just marathonned the entire series on Netflix and I kept telling myself not to ship this and then WHOOPS, MY HANDS SLIPPED ON THE KEYBOARD.
> 
> I'm driving the bus to hell. I know. Whee.
> 
> Written for the 28 to Create challenge, prompt #3: blurred.


End file.
